Potion Induced
by Playfully Pondering Puppies
Summary: An adorable Remus, egotistical Sirius and a phial of love potion... making for a cliche, loveable fluffy pairing. Slash!
1. Chapter 1

Title: Potion Induced

Author: Faerie Tales! hehe---that's me, you see

A/N: This is a request fic... the request: To do the cliche "Love Potion" fluff fic... but with Sirius and Remus. Optional if there actually was a potion. I sorta added a mini twist or two... but on the most part it's just a two-chapter fluffy fic with no really deep plot. Please enjoy!

His damned, accursed eyes were hazel. A gorgeous shade of green that day– moist moss glistening after a morning shower. Seven freckles graced that otherwise flawless face, pale as it was against the Common Room fire. Hmm... rosy lips, looking utterly delectable, invitingly parted. Rosy; like rose buds—rose bud lips! It was just the two of us. Him reading. Me... observing. I never had thought myself the observant type, nor one to put a metaphor to one's eyes.

It was that love-potion. Yes—I, the school-renowned Sirius Black, had been slipped a love-potion. I am well aware that this is the sort of error a novice at pranks would make. I'm also well aware that the sort of person that is constantly looking for a source to humiliate should be wary of attempts at revenge (I have never been short of them; they come in all shapes and sizes, most of which are laughably pathetic). But, I had been rather distracted at the moment...

James, in a rare (hah!) moment of clumsiness, managed to drop and scatter all of our scarabs on the Potion room floor. We both dove to right his wrong, crushing a few of the damn dung-beetles in the process. We were on the stone floor for less than three minutes... but evidently that's enough time for a certain greasy-haired, thin-lipped, hook-nosed, sniveling, pale (and not in the dead-attractive way that Moony was glowing at the moment), pig-eyed, loner that was the bane of our existence to seek a little revenge on me.

The Potions lesson ended easily enough. It was some potion to rid students of acne or something utterly useless like that (Come on... can you imagine anything of the sort on my gorgeous face? I thought not). But we were each to sample the potion for ourselves. With an exchanged toast with Moony, Wormtail and Prongs, we downed the sweet-smelling (certainly not sweet-tasting) draught.

That's where it all went wrong. You see, almost directly after sipping the potion, I noticed the befoulment on Severus's otherwise orderly work area. Yes... the phial in which rested the forbidden love-potion. He was wretched at hiding it, too. It was still emitting the little pink childish hearts that the poorly made love-potions tend to do.

And now... _now _I'm about to write a poem about how the shadow's dance across Remus's face as he reads.

...Well, no I'm not. I would never become _that_ hopelessly pathetic.

"Dammit," I cursed softly, frustrated at my own will for doing this. I had never-ever put any sort of description to anyone's eyes. It was a disgusting lovers' pastime, one that both James and I swore we would never take part in. We deciding years ago not to besmirch our reputation, or our fun, on girls. All the female species would ever do was pull us apart. No, we'd wait until after Hogwarts, when things weren't so exciting.

A snort. James was, at this very moment, taking "sweet Lily" on a walk of the grounds, hidden beneath his cloak. Here I was, about to compare Remus's nose to the beak of the noblest falcon... The prospect elicited another snort.

"If you're quite done crooning to yourself—" Remus started, but didn't finish. The book held him fast. After a few long moments, those hazel eyes peeked up from his book to meet my own. Eyes framed by cinnamon lashes. His hair was a funny thing. It was such a dull, mousy color until the sun hit it... or the firelight, as it did tonight. A halo of golden light was upon his head. But then those eyes flicked up to meet my own chocolate brown eyes, and I forgot about that halo.

A jolt provoked the butterflies resting in my stomach to take flight, making for a very unsettling revelation. It had taken me a while, and some suspicions... but I now knew just who that potion was intended for. Remus Lupin was to be the object of my affections, desires and dreams until the stupid thing wore off. Being a poorly-made potion... that should be soon.

I decided that Remus had a right to know that my body was screaming to pick him up and kiss him until he no longer had feeling in his face. I slid onto the overstuffed couch next to him.

"Moony?" I asked imploringly.

"Hmm?" Remus's distracted way of response was his signal for me to wait a few moments until he had reached a reasonable stopping point in his reading. When he did, his nimble fingers marked the page and he set the book down with slow, deliberate motions that made me shudder for some inexplicable reason.

"Umm..." it was very difficult, with that expression of interest and expectance upon his delicate features, to find my words. It came to me in a fleeting moment, and I spoke before it left me. "I do believe Snape has slipped a nasty _poison_ into my potion."

"Ah," Remus said wearily, as if he had just been enlightened with Stoic philosophy. "I see that he snuck the love potion into yours, also."

I blinked. For a moment, curses sprung to my lips, and I was about to share my opinions on that vile, hideous... greasy haired...

But Remus was looking so adorable, curled up on the sofa like that, so close to me. Though he was silent, his expression may as well have been screaming "KISS ME, KISS ME!"

Well... perhaps that wasn't the case. His face actually seemed to be saying "what an absurd situation we have found ourselves in" but I payed it no mind.

"Shall we indulge?" I found myself asking intelligently (and rather seductively, if I do say so myself).

Remus was one for second thoughts. He always had been one to sit back and say "let us think about our actions before we do a wrong." Perhaps not in those exact words, but he did think things through. While he rarely voiced his opinion, the disapproval was evident in the way he would give off loud sighs, glare, and otherwise look displeased. But at the moment, his expression wasn't regretful in the slightest. He looked up at me, licked his lips and moved closer. "Very well," he said matter-of-factly.

Who says "very well" to consent to getting snogged other than Remus? It was a pleasant reminder of just who I had in my arms (when had my arms moved?). Right as I closed the distance between us, I noticed a smirk on his face. A tiny, triumphant smirk. But I ignored it. My thoughts were rather preoccupied.

He tasted so sweet! Of chocolate, raspberry from tonight's dessert, and a taste all his own. Soft hair entwined around my fingers... breaths mingled, soft (rosebud!) lips, the tentative (and later rather aggressive) exploration of one another's mouths. There was a quite a lot of bliss involved for love-potion induced love. Using my newfound observant skills (and common sense) I noticed Remus was enjoying this a considerable amount, also.

This sure as Hell was going to be awkward tomorrow.

A/N: I imagine L'il Siri to be very egotistical... perhaps I'm just saying that because it's fun to write... but I can see it, nonetheless. By the way---Stoic enlightenment is a reference to the Stoic philosophy. The philosophy was so depressing, that when Stoics became enlightened, suicide was actually promoted rather than to risk losing the enlightenment. I had to tie in philosophy somewhere... The class wasn't such a waste of time. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, and tune in next time!


	2. Chapter 2

Of all peculiar positions to be found in, this would be the one I'd prefer the least. I suppose it's best that it was James that found Remus and myself, limbs entangled and hair mussed, lying asleep partially on and partially off of the Common Room sofa.

At first it was all so fabulous. I was curled up around something warm and comforting, absently stroking something silky that entwined marvelously about my fingers. The next there was heavy guffawing and numerous flashing lights. Needless to say, it woke me up.

The precise moment of fully awakening was when I discovered that the object I was preening in my sleep was a human who was still lost in his dreams. This didn't last for long, as I gave a squawk of sorts and sent him toppling, covers and all, to the floor. He landed with a thump and a squeak (not quite as graceful as my squawk).

Remus peered up imploringly at me, then caught sight of James, who was still clicking his stupid camera. His expression went from something that resembled hurt to complete detachment. He stood, straightened his tie, ran his fingers through his hair, and then looked at me as though awaiting an explanation.

_Me_. Why do they always look to _me_ for the explanation. Do they think I am excellent at explaining things? I always manage to make things _worse!_

"I see the two of you were enjoying yourselves last night." James said, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. I could feel myself growing red.

"Yes, James," Remus said in a voice dripping with cynical sarcasm, "that's _exactly_ what we were doing. The both of us consumed a love potion that had such strong side-effects that we were soon wrapped in one another's arms, desperately clinging to one another in the false love of it all. Oh drat, I cannot fathom that you found us." Remus' tone was bitter to the point where it was almost an aggressive attack.

"Aw, Remus, you're no fun!" James said, finally putting a halt to his photography.

I was a bit disconcerted at the mood Remus was in. It was unexpected, he was always such a soft-spoken person. My mind wandered a bit, and I discovered the pleasant concept of holding him tight, stroking his hair and whispering soothing words into his ear, so that it tickled and he would shiver, and I'd hold him all the tighter...

It seemed, however, that the potion had worn off for Remus. His expression wasn't in the least pleasant, and he wouldn't even make eye contact with me. Of course, the werewolf's hair was mussed from a night of sleeping on a couch, and his clothes were a bit off-center. Rather than make him look disorderly, I found it so attractive I nearly stood to snog him, even with James right there. But I didn't. Remus didn't look up for anything more than strong tea and a nap.

Remus hardly spoke to me for three days. Monosyllable responses, avoided eye-contact. I suppose that to the others it might have been difficult to notice, and it might be that I was just being suspicious, but it wasn't like it was before The Incident.

After three days, everything returned to normal. That night wasn't mentioned at all, even though I ached to remind him of it. There was some elongated effect (potentially an allergic reaction to the potion) that extended the period that I endured it.

Two months later, my stomach still fluttered when he smiled at me. This was a problem. A difficulty. Something that needed to be righted. Remus wasn't helping in the least, doing stupid things like touch my arm as he spoke, grin sheepishly while tucking a strand of hair behind his small ears, _whisper to me while everyone was sleeping._ It was impossible. I couldn't go to the nurse, either, explaining to her that I had potion-induced love for my best friend, could she please make it stop? Part of me didn't want to go, either. I rather enjoyed these feelings I had for Remus.

During this time, I noticed several significant things about Remus.

I strongly suspect he has a chocolate fetish. Whenever he eats sweets, he does it so tenderly, so lovingly, that I suspect there is more than the usual consumption going on there. Remus also hordes said sweets. Indeed, I have come across them in his pillow case, under his bed and hid in balled up clean socks. He goes to such an extent to avoid being asked to share.

Remus Lupin writes his name with a flourish. He takes special care in the 'R' in Remus and the 'L' in Lupin, deliberately slow and adding to the curves so that they dip and glide, and the quill falls in such neat strokes that it's almost artwork compared to the hasty scribbling of my own name.

He bathes longer than any human I've ever met, sometimes disappearing into the baths for hours, a good book tucked under his arm. And he always returns in a particularly good mood. This is when we find it most successful to ask him for help with homework.

You get the idea. One becomes much more observant when they are under a potion-induced love. And Remus was my love, and I admired him and adored him and wanted to kiss him and kiss him as we had that one night.

Except I didn't.

Eventually, though, I did have a talk with him. I really hadn't planned it, but it just worked out that James and Peter were out of the dorms at the moment, and Remus and I were alone. The two of us. Together.

"Remus," I said, having every intention of telling him that he had this one strand of hair that stood up above the rest and it looked rather silly. Really, that boy could never keep his hair in line! "That potion... hasn't worn off." Is what came out. Bloody mouth, speaking without my permission!

"Oh?" Remus said, quirking an eyebrow.

"Erm, yes."

Remus smiled. The corner of his lips turned up ever so slightly, in a manner that suggested he knew something I didn't. "Sirius, are you certain it's the potion?" He asked.

"Yes," I replied automatically.

"It isn't." Remus said, starting to make his bed.

"What?"

"You're not under the effects of a potion. You never were. Can you get the other side?" He said, gesturing to the untidy sheets. I moved over to help him without really thinking. My brain seemed to be running underwater. Trying it's best, but not really getting anywhere.

"How do you know I wasn't under the effects of the potion?" I asked. "Severus made it in the first place."

"Because I made the potion, and I never gave any of it to you." Now, rather than look confident as he had at the start of this abrupt and rather startling conversation, he looked sheepish and a bit frightened.

"Oh." This didn't exactly make sense. If he didn't give me the potion, then why the hell was I in love with him? Natural love doesn't come about quite so suddenly, that's just the work of imaginative authors. Real life doesn't have such random epiphanies of love. I told Remus as much.

At this point, the boy sat down upon his still unmade bed, his head lowered. "It's a psychology thing. You didn't notice subconscious feelings until they were shoved into your face, made believable."

I gaped.

Then that one night... that was all...

I sat down as well. Remus stood; paced.

"Oh." I said again.

To be perfectly honest, I wasn't as shocked as I should have been. Alright, so I realized I was queer. I realized that my feelings for Remus weren't, actually, potion-induced. But it wasn't really all that shocking. In fact, I didn't feel very different. Rather than be angry, I actually felt pretty bad for Remus, who knew what was going on all along and wasn't able to bring himself to say anything.

I wonder if he felt the same way about me. Why else would he make a love potion?

I asked him.

In response, I got a soft smile.

Suddenly feeling very responsible for Remus, I stood so that I was very close to him, and then tucked that rebellious strand back into place.

The only plausible thing to do after that would be to kiss him.

So I did.

And it was bliss.


End file.
